Ninety Nine Days - Phan (Boyxboy)

Chapter 8

Dan's POV

I was there. I could finally be with my Lion and everything would be okay. As long as we were together, it would all be okay. I could fix all of this; but first I had to get to Phil. Just hang in there, Phil. Please.

My thoughts turned into quiet mumblings and I whimpered into my hands. "Please, Phil... Please. You have to be okay. You just have to. I need you...You can't leave me Phil." The weather took a turn for the worst, freezing me to the bone and rain poured down.

My soaking wet fringe fell over my eyes as I stared at the hospital in front of me with its daunting white pristine interior, the stereotypical cross placed behind the receptionist's desk. Everything about the hospital seemingly reminded me of everything that happened; all of the words that I spewed out in an angry blur towards the world's most innocent man; towards my lover and lifeline.

You're an utter fool, do you know that? You've caused your boyfriend to be nearly killed. You saw the damage that was done to him from the impact; all of his blood smeared on the leather seat of your car - wait, scrap that - all the damage that you caused him. You know Phil like the back of your hand - what food he likes to how he's feeling by his tone of voice, so why on earth did you think that he WOULD HAVE CHEATED?! The voice screamed inside of my head, shouting about all of the things that I had done and how I had literally dragged innocent Phil through hell and back.

Images of the crash came into my mind - Phil's limp body, the glass shattered, all of his blood smeared over the dashboard and the chair.

I couldn't do it. I just couldn't face it. I didn't want to even imagine what Phil has going through, or what they were doing to him. It was all too much and I slumped down on the steps leading to the daunting hospital, my head in my hands. Tears trailed down my face, dripping onto my already rain-soaked clothing. The rain didn't help my current mood, only furthering me into a more upset state.

The dark clouds covered the sky in a blanket like formation, plunging everything below into semi-darkness. I clutched my shirt with both of my hands, balling them up into fists and slowly turning my skin around my knuckles white.

I couldn't care less about how I looked right now, nor couldn't what anybody inside the hospital was thinking of me. I couldn't face it. I couldn't face the faces of the many paramedics and nurses that would be scuttling around inside the hospital; bouncing from ward to ward clutching a clipboard which held multiple patients information as to how they got there.

But I had to do something.

I couldn't just wait around in the rain, but I also couldn't go to see Phil. I sighed audibly, and ran my hands through my wet fringe. What should I do?! If I go in there, I'll be seen as a monster and an idiot; if I don't, then I look heartless. Why is life so difficult? Why can't everything be so easy to understand!

Ahh, you don't know what to do again, hm? What you need to do, is to fix this entire mess that you've caused both Phil and yourself. I can help you, dimwit, so listen. Stop moping around in this god-awful weather, fix your hair and go walk through them doors and find Phil! You look terrible without him by your side! The voice whispered once more, with subtlety and anger in its tone.

I stared at my hands, silently judging if I was doing the right thing. Come on dimwit, decide! The voice yelled out to me, pulling me out of my confused thoughts as I realised that I was still sat on the concrete steps with the rain still having a relentless assault on my body.

My clothes clung to me uncomfortably from the rain; my grey t-shirt darker than it was earlier in the day. I stood up and stretched, as if to prepare myself for the terrors that I could possibly face in the daunting white hospital.

I began to walk towards the doors, finally ready to accept whatever I would face beyond.
Inhale. Exhale. Calm your breathing.
Inhale. Exhale. Keep your mind somewhere else. Inhale. Exhale.

The receptionist smiling at me, running through her standard greeting to the majority of people who come to the front desk. Bright green eyes stared at me, as if to question why my chocolate brown eyes were slightly red. A mumble of Phil's name left my lips with an impatient tone, fingers drumming repeatedly on the counter.

Keep it together, you don't want to look like a bigger fool in front of these poor people, the voice whispered with authority. The voice which lies in the depths of my mind was a source of help in times of need; whether to stop me from looking like a fool or to scold me for being an idiot.

"Sir, I need to know who is visiting Philip Lester. He's in a serious condition and would be found in the Intensive Care Unit after his surgery," the receptionist began, looking up at me from her chair with serious eyes.

I looked back at her, alarmed at the sudden statement that she just voiced.
"Dan Howell! Phil's friend!" I blurted out, becoming a trembling mess at the thought of Phil undergoing surgery to save his life.

She quickly thanked me and went back to typing in various statements on the computer. I could see her opening guest files for the ICU, which was recording who went in and out of the ward. A ping resonated from her computer and her green orbs landed back on my face.

"Sir, we've been told that you're in emotional distress for your friend by one of our paramedics," she began slowly, afraid I would suddenly burst out crying or threw a fit in rage. My clothing didn't exactly help my appearance right now either. I stared back with bleak eyes, and slowly nodded back at her.

"If you wanted to wait by the Intensive Care Unit, you would be able to see your friend as soon as he's out of the surgery," she suggested to me, which led me to muttering a quick, "thank you" before sprinting down hallways to find the doors of the ICU. I sat down upon one of the flimsy plastic chairs that was lined up against the wall closest to the doors, and led my head hang.

Inhale. Exhale.
Inhale. Exhale. Keep it together.
Inhale. Exhal-
"Phillip? Philip, can you hear me?"
My exterior broke, which led to low pitched sobs erupting from my core.
I had done all of this.
"I'm so sorry Phil."